


The Bear-Husband for a Sky-boy

by Anonymous



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 20:42:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30145335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Prompt from the Kink Meme: Murphy is given to Gustus for his part in Finn’s massacre.
Relationships: Gustus/John Murphy (The 100)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4
Collections: Anonymous, The 100 Kinkmeme Round 2021





	The Bear-Husband for a Sky-boy

The negotiations had lasted for hours and no matter how the Chancellor, Clarke and the others begged and pleaded, the Commander was intractable. Finally after much consideration, they narrowed it down to two who would bear the penalty - Finn Collins and John Murphy. Murphy watched as the others tried everything in their power to save Finn. Reyes even stated that he should bear all of the responsibility. He hadn’t shot a single grounder in that village but somehow Reyes felt he should go down for what Finn had done. Not a single person argued for him. Fuck them all. 

Was this how he died - A sacrificial lamb for another’s crime. The rage boiled under his skin as he and Finn were marched into the encampment of grounders. They circled around. Some looked grief-stricken and the guilt gnawed at Murphy a little, despite his terror at his own situation. It was all going to be over soon and there was a strange sense of relief in that. The fight was over. 

The crowd roared, some in righteous anger and others in pain, as they announced Finn’s execution. Murphy stood there, gaze straight ahead, as his fate was relayed. His people didn’t roar, they only looked confused. Bonded? To the General? What … what did that mean?

They hauled him forward and an enormous man moved toward him. He was literally the largest human being Murphy had ever met, more bear than human. Murphy swallowed and tried to keep himself from trembling in some obvious way. The older man held out his hand and Murphy stared at it for a long minute before slowly sliding his own hand over it, holding it, his knuckles growing white as his grip tightened. A length of bright fabric was placed over their entwined hands and words were relayed in this language he did not understand. Then they stopped and looked at him. 

What was he supposed to say? 

“I do, I will.” he managed to get out between lips gone dry from a parched throat. He wasn’t sure if it was the right thing but they all seemed satisfied. The cloth was unwound and he was nudged toward the large grounder. The man cupped his face and to his surprise the hand was warm, dry and the touch was gentle. How long had it been since anyone had touched him gently? He couldn’t remember, which meant it had been too long. 

It wasn’t much of a kiss, more a brush of his lips with the other man’s, and the beard tickled his skin in a way he wasn’t sure he liked. Was he married? Or was this something else? He didn’t have too much time to think about it. The rest of the night was a blur as Clarke engaged in a form of mercy kill and then was released. Only Murphy remained. No one even said goodbye to him. Fucking assholes.

That night they offered him food and drink. Whatever he was drinking - it was warm and creamy and very alcoholic. He didn’t remember when the night became blurry but he did recall playing with his new husband’s long braids, tangling them in his fingertips and talking some ridiculous nonsense about his fuzzy beard and its tickling effects. He flushed in mortification when he woke the next morning. His head ached as a warm drink was passed to him and he was encouraged to partake, the healer assuring him he would feel better in stilted English.

“Where is he?” he asked quietly and the Healer smiled indulgently as if he and the husband-bear-man weren’t basically strangers but long term lovers or something. 

“Horse. To go home.” the Healer explained and Murphy just nodded, taking the time to finish the hot drink, which admittedly did make his headache dissipate slightly and he felt well enough to even eat a little. He ate some of the bread and marveled at how soft it was. At least the grounder food was pretty good. 

By the time he cleaned up and stumbled out of the temporary shelter, the man was waiting for him. There were two horses saddled and waiting. He assumed the second one was for him and had to confess sheepishly he didn’t know how to ride. “I thought so.” the bear-husband replied in really good English. Thank god for small mercies Murphy supposed. “He is for you to learn to ride once we are home. Come. Winter will be on us soon enough and I want you home and safe before the snows fly.”

It was getting colder each day so he assumed that was the start of this winter. It wasn’t like they had seasons on the Ark. The husband mounted his animal and nodded down at Murphy, who was still watching uncertainly. 

“You can ride with me or go in the cart.” He gestured with a tip of his head. Murphy followed that gesture and then stepped slowly toward the cart. “Probably best in the cart for now.” he muttered and then had a terrible feeling like he had just disappointed the man. Oh good, cause that was what he needed in his life - one more person to find him disappointing. Awesome. He fled to the cart and tucked himself in tightly, trying not to draw attention to himself or take up too much room. Murphy tried not to notice but it was hard to miss the way the bear-husband-man kept stopping next to the cart, peering in, as if checking on him. He shouldn’t have liked it but he kind of did. At least someone was checking. People didn’t usually bother with him like that. 

The journey took two days and he spent most of them either watching the scenery pass or sound asleep in the cart. The headache was gone by the second morning and he already knew to only take reasonable amounts of the headache inducing alcoholic beverages that were circulated. The food remained plentiful and he had to admit so far that might be his favourite part of this weird marriage thing he had gotten himself into at this point. 

They arrived at his home on the third day and it was really pretty. It was like an old log cabin with notched beams and a bright interior. A fireplace centrally located kept the place warm. There was a smallish indoor kitchen area and a more expansive covered outdoor kitchen. The bear-husband-man walked him through, showing Murphy the preserves, the cold cellar and even the ice room storage for meat and other things. There were barrels of grains and flours. He didn’t understand all of it but it was fascinating. Then he showed him a bed area tucked under some eaves along the back wall and gestured to it. Apparently that was his sleeping area.

What he discovered that night was that it was not the husband’s sleeping area. The man checked on him, practically tucked him in and then slept elsewhere. It should have been relieving but for some reason it made him feel precarious and uncomfortable. Husbands were supposed to fuck you, right? Didn’t his husband want him? Now that was fucked up, wasn’t it?

Murphy tried to put it out of mind and focus on other things. There were two things he noticed immediately. The first was that most people seem to regard him as a bizarre oddity and wouldn’t talk to him much. An elderly woman took pity on him, coming by every day as the bear-husband went off to do whatever he did most of the day. She told him to call her Nana and seemed very pleased to have him there. She was the only one in the village who seemed to be willing to befriend him. The rest of them were easy to drive away with grumpy replies and sarcastic statements. It was impossible to do that to Nana. Thankfully, she spoke excellent english, having learned from her mother who had grown up in the time before the nuclear holocaust, something the grounders all called praimfaya. It seemed as suitable a name as any could be. 

Nana spoke to him for hours, showing him how to use all these raw ingredients to make food. She had cheered with him as his first loaf of bread turned out to be quite respectable and he had served it that night with dinner. The bear-husband approved warmly and told him so, offering him praise for expending the effort to make something good. Then the husband offered to teach him how to ride and at first Murphy thought he meant sex and was embarrassed by how eagerly he agreed. The husband didn’t mean sex at all though. He meant the damned horse. It was humiliating. Every night the man put him to bed, a soft kiss with that tickling beard and then off to his own bed. This should have been a blissful relief. It was not.

The winter settled in ferociously and the Nana stopped coming to see him, unable to get her old bones moving through the drifts of snow. On a crisp day, Murphy made up some extra bread and trudged down through winter weather to visit with her and bring her food. He brought in some extra wood for her and made sure she was set for the next few days before heading home again. The hour had grown late and it was dark by the time he managed to get through the door. He was frozen through to his very bones, his teeth chattering and his limbs shaking as he finally managed to push open the door.

“Where have you been!” the bear-husband roared as he walked through the door. The sudden anger was almost too much. “Fuck you! I was visiting Nana. She was lonely.” he replied heatedly. He wasn’t even sure it was the woman who was lonely or him but in the middle of an argument was not the time to split hairs. The older man approached rapidly and he flinched despite himself, pressing himself against the door while staring up at him defiantly. Instead of the blow he expected, the bear-husband began to undress him. Murphy tried to push away his hands but his fingers were numb and not particularly functional. His clothing peeled away and was quickly hung up to dry. The man tucked him into bed and instead of leaving this time, the bear-husband peeled off his own clothing and then curled around him.

“What?” he asked quietly, completely confused.

“It’ll warm you faster.”

“Oh.” It was neither agreement nor disagreement with the prospect of his husband sleeping beside him. He was very warm though and Murphy found himself burrowing as close as he could, feet coming up to rest against the husband’s leg. The hour grew later and he found himself slipping and out of sleep, only really disturbed when the man beside him got up to tend to the fire. The third time, he rolled over and watched the man work, admiring every line of his body in the firelight.

“Can I ask a question?” Murphy whispered, unsure why he was being so ridiculous. The bear-husband nodded in agreement as he made his way back toward the bed. The large man knelt upon the bedding, near Murphy’s feet, running a hand up and down Murphy’s legs as if checking for something. 

“What’s your name?” 

His head snapped up and he frowned so darkly that Murphy wished he hadn’t said a word.

“You do not know my name? I have been your houmon for months and you do not know my name?” He was clearly incredulous and Murphy felt embarrassed for being so foolish. He had put together some time ago that houmon meant husband or spouse. He wasn’t sure about the second and pretty sure about the first at least. The older man sighed and tucked the blankets more tightly around Murphy again but made no effort to get back into the bed. Now, he really wished he hadn’t asked.

“I am Gustus. I am the general of Trikru. I serve the Commander.” he explained gruffly. 

“Why did they give me to you?” 

“Because you consented. That is what they said. That you agreed.” Gustus was clearly puzzled but Murphy was now too curious to stop.

Murphy shook his head, “I … I thought I was going to be executed.” 

Gustus nodded and then sighed, “In the spring then, you can leave. I will help you.” Then he walked away, disappearing into his own room. Murphy debated following, wanting to protest that that was not what he meant. Instead he lay there, staring up at the ceiling and wondering how he managed to fuck this up. He stared until finally the darkness and exhaustion of a long day pulled him under and he slept again. 

He tried talking to Gustus in the morning but the man left without a further word to Murphy. The rest of the winter was fine but quiet. The husband didn’t get into bed with him again and barely spoke most of the time but it wasn’t like he did anything to hurt him. In fact, he was nothing but kind. He taught him how to ride whenever the ground was clear enough for it. The man met every dish he prepared with effusive praise, even when, if being honest, it wasn’t very good.

The winter started to melt away and he realized that he was now over eighteen. That was crazy but he had to be. If he was on the Ark, he’d have been floated by now. Instead he was alive, married, living on the ground and had a husband who treated him more like he was a precious pet than a lover. Murphy was aware that craving the latter was a little ridiculous. He should be grateful for what he did have but he couldn’t muster any gratitude for having a giant bear-husband who wouldn’t fuck him. 

He had prepared some scones with some early spring berries and was walking them down to Nana’s home when he saw Gustus talking with another grounder. This was not unusual and he should have kept walking but there was something in this other grounder’s demeanour that had his back straighten and his gaze narrow. Oh fuck no. No no nope. That was flirting. This fucker was flirting with his husband. He marched toward the pair and watched as this other man, this fucking grounder who was borderline batting his eyelashes at Gustus, ran a hand down his fucking husband’s arm. To Gustus’ credit, he stepped back slightly, a polite sort of rejection, which Murphy recognized.

He pushed between them, his back to Gustus’ chest and glared up at the other grounder. Why were all of them so fucking tall? 

“Step off. I married him.” he said in almost passable Trig.

“What?” the other grounder said, not sure what the boy was trying to say evidently.

“I said.” he repeated in English. “Leave my husband alone. Stop it.” 

The grounder half laughed and looked from Murphy up to Gustus and then back again. “Are you quite serious, boy? You have no business speaking to me that way, Skaikru.”

Murphy opened his mouth to speak but his bear-husband got there first, “He is serious and he is right. I am his. And he is not Skaikru any longer. He is Trikru and my husband.” He turned and rose up on his toes to press a soft kiss to the older man’s throat and under his chin. 

“I did not know you were possessive, boy.” Gustus murmured as the other grounder stalked off, leaving the husbands alone at the edge of the village. 

“If I see anyone else trying to climb your dick, I’ll fucking stab them.” 

Gustus laughed and Murphy found himself grinning in response as the other man’s joy. “Stop laughing at me. I will!” he protested. His bear-husband wrapped his strong arms around his slim frame and he sighed in contentment. 

“Then I best teach you how to wield a knife and not for preparing our meals.” Gustus murmured quietly against his shoulder. The older man’s broad hands traced up and down Murphy’s back as if savouring his proximity. Perhaps his bear-husband was as lonely as he felt. It wasn’t like anyone else was joining his bed either. 

A voice called Gustus’ name and reluctantly Murphy broke off his hold. “I must tend to these matters. I am sorry.”

“It’s alright, I should go see Nana anyway.” Murphy muttered. 

“It pleases me how you care for my aunt. She raised me when I was a boy. She is important to my heart.” Gustus explained and Murphy’s mind reeled. There were so many more questions he could ask if Nana was his Aunt! Holy shit. Gustus continued, “As are you.” A soft kiss brushed his lips and suddenly that beard felt good and not just so ticklish anymore. He watched Gustus walk away and then scurried to Nana’s small house to bring her the scones and tell her about this strange new discovery. 

“I was wondering when you would see he loved you, John.” Nana replied with a gentle pat to his arm and then the elderly woman contentedly dug into her treat. He asked what must have been a thousand questions and she answered each one with pleasure, seeming to enjoy talking about the boy she had raised to be Murphy’s bear-husband. She was clearly proud of him. She relayed stories of seeing him train the Commander and collaborating with Lexa to ensure the survival of their people. Murphy devoured every word, soaking in all this unexpected information.

He walked home up the muddy mountainside to their warm little house. Murphy thought for a moment as he cleaned his hands and considered how he should proceed from here. He dismantled his little bedroom area and moved all his things into Gustus’ bedroom. He had never just entered this space before. He moved the dining table over to be under the window where his bed used to be and set it nicely, using a couple of sprigs of fresh spring flowers to brighten the place. The dinner was easy, he put on the stew that Gustus had praised most effusively the last time he made it. 

The hour had grown late and it was dark outside when Gustus finally arrived home again. When Murphy crossed the floor to stand in front of him, Gustus stepped back. He thought his heart would stop in his chest. “What’s wrong?” he asked quietly. 

“If we are together … that way, I will not wish for you to leave.” the bear-husband explained gruffly.

The air rushed out of his chest and he laughed just a little. “Well, best I’m not going anywhere then. I’ve finally gotten used to that beard so …” He shrugged and then grinned. Leaning up to his toes, he dusted against his husband’s lips. Gustus’ arms tightened around him, pulling him in close. 

“Be sure.” 

“I am. I am sure. I promise.” 

The bear-husband picked him up and walked him toward the bedroom. “Ummm dinner.” Murphy half-heartedly protested.

“It can burn. I don’t care. I am only hungry for you.” Gustus replied and Murphy felt like his blood lit on fire with those words. At last. He cupped Gustus’ face and tipped his head forward to claim the older man’s lips. He actually wasn’t sure how he ended up on the bed, with the man’s broad hand teasing under the soft fabric of his shirt. He groaned and wiggled, chuckling a little at the touches. 

Gustus stretched out over him, one hand under his shirt touching him gently, and Murphy wriggled under the attention. One hand wove into the bear-husband’s long braids and he tugged on them lightly. “Stop.” he muttered as Gustus’ eyes seemed to be devouring him. 

“You are so beautiful.” 

He flushed deeply, and shook his head in half-hearted protest but the smile flickered over his lips, thrilled with the warm praise. Murphy shifted upward to brush his lips against Gustus’ mouth. With a soft moan, Murphy ground against his husband as his hands plucked at his clothing. It didn’t take much persuasion to finally pull off Gustus’ clothing and his own quickly followed. His fingertips grazed over old scars and he ached to know their stories. All of them - the scars, the tattoos - he wanted to know this man’s life. What had led him to take a lost boy from the space to be a husband?

Was he sorry?

His hand wrapped around Gustus’ cock, stroking as the older man groaned in sheer pleasure at the delicious pressure. “No one else right? Just me.”

“Just you.” Gustus assured him and then claimed his mouth in a heated kiss. Murphy felt like his body was alight and he never wanted it to stop. He pressed himself in another lingering kiss as Gustus’ hands possessively ran over Murphy’s body. He felt those gentle caresses and while he wanted to linger in this moment, it had been too long and he really wanted to be fucked. Now.

“Please.” Murphy pleaded as he traced down Gustus’ throat with nipping kisses. Gustus broke from him for a moment, reaching into the small shelf that sat next to the bed. Murphy whimpered in feverish desperation, reaching for the man, trying to pull his attention back. Then he saw the bottle and realized what was happening. Fuck yes. He pressed his face into the crook of Gustus’ elbow and stretched out on his belly.

The older man was determined to break him with this tender lovemaking. He wasn’t sure when the last time was that Murphy had gotten opened with anything other than a few pokes and a bit of spit. Gustus made it a thing - slow caresses around the rosebud of his back passage, pressing in, adding more of the thick cream, again and again, more and more with each touch of his fingertips. He breached Murphy’s body with one thick finger and then added a second. Shallow caresses at first and then slowly he pressed in a little further. The slick cream continued to be added to the man’s rough-hewn hands that opened him so gently. He was shaking, trembling, his cheek braced against Gustus’ arm as his teeth nipped at the meat of his palm.

It was an aching, desperate feeling, when the fingers disappeared and he felt that nudge of the head of Gustus’ cock. “Yes! Please…. Please Gustus.” Murphy begged, unable to believe it was finally happening. His husband was laying claim to him at last.

He pressed back, letting the man fill him slowly. Centimetre by cruelly wonderful centimetre the man laid claim to him. Finally he stopped and let his weight just rest on him and Murphy felt full and strangely complete. He moaned as he felt Gustus wrap his hand around his cock. 

“Mine.” Gustus whispered.

“Yes, god yes, yours.” Murphy pledged desperately.

“And I am yours.” 

That thought was strangely evocative. It had been a long time since he had anyone of his own, anyone who loved him, anyone who looked out for him. He nodded feverishly and mumbled words of agreement as the man started to move, the drag of his cock moving through the tight ring of muscle had him moaning, grinding against Gustus’ hand. “Yes. Yes, you’re mine.” he muttered desperately.

The fuck started slow but soon Gustus was pounding into him, killing him in the best possible way. Murphy had one hand wrapped around the frame of the bed as the other curled around Gustus’ wrist. Gustus stroked Murphy’s cock and he had no stamina left. He had wanted this for too long. He came into Gustus’ hand, filling it with thick hot cum, that the man smeared up and over his belly and rubbed into his skin. “Good boy.” Gustus praised as he pinned Murphy into place and began to fuck him in earnest. Murphy’s body bounced on the bed, completely lost to the will of this grounder, all his trust placed in his bear-husband to take care of him and never hurt him. 

He screamed as Gustus roared his release and filled him, not pulling out until he was replete. Gustus let him collapse to the bed. Murphy could feel the cum trickle out from his well-fucked hole and the sensation made him shiver. “I love you, husband.” Gustus murmured as he brushed a kiss along Murphy’s forehead and down to his lips. 

Murphy groaned as he rolled over and held his arms out for the man to pull him in close. The kisses continued unabated, slow and soft, as the two finally found their way together after dancing around each other since their wedding.

“I love you too, Gustus.” 

The words were met with a possessive chuckle and Murphy should have felt at least a little abashed but instead he only felt a pleased contentment. He wove his hand back into those dark braids and let his eyes fall closed. Gustus’ lips were caressing his skin and he let the older man worship his body. 

*

It was late summer when he saw anyone from Skaikru again. It was strange to see them. They seemed desperate and greedy to him. Murphy was almost unrecognizable, although the physical changes were minimal. His body was stronger but it was lean muscle. He’d never be built like Gustus but as the man reminded him often - size did not determine strength. Both had their advantages and disadvantages. Lexa, for example, was a petite woman but no less fierce for it. You just had to learn to fight in a way that worked with your strengths and protected your weaknesses. Murphy wasn’t much of a warrior to be fair but he could work with the bow and was terrifying with a knife.

He had a trail of tattoos that blended into his hairline and traced down one cheek. He had another on his arm, marking him as the lover and husband of General Gustus and as a part of Trikru. Murphy rode well now and his pretty mare was a spirited creature and suited him.

He rode beside his husband and proudly pledged his loyalty to Commander Lexa, who had granted him this new life. It was the small things that marked the degree of change in his life - the way the other warriors watched out for him, making sure he was well. He had assumed it was to honour Gustus but no, he was informed that it was for him. They liked him. They liked the way he honoured the Nana, a beloved elder in their community. They also liked his salty manner as much as they liked the crazy old stories he would tell them. Thank god for his reading proficiency and excellent memory. There were a few endings he had to change because he couldn’t remember the specifics of the original but Gustus pointed out the only one who would know that was Murphy himself. The thought made him laugh. 

Skaikru stood in the distance as Clarke and Chancellor Kane approached. It was a negotiation for some sort of hunting rights. He stood beside Gustus and at first Clarke didn’t even seem to realize he was there. Finally Bellamy sidled up to him. “Murphy? Is that you?” 

One of Gustus’ men inserted himself between them before Murphy had a chance to reply. “You have no right to speak to our Murphy. Go away.” Bellamy staggered back and stood behind Clarke once again. That’s right, Bellamy, Murphy thought in some amusement as he stood behind no one but rather at the side of the man he called his husband. He was theirs now. 

John Murphy had found where he belonged.


End file.
